


February

by Deansrainbowslinky



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-10 13:31:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3292088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deansrainbowslinky/pseuds/Deansrainbowslinky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone suffers from some degree of depression in the winter months. <br/>Left alone with a despondent Sam, Dean's emotional 'stability' begins to weather as the nights somehow continue to grow colder and and more isolated.<br/>Something's gotta give.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter, more to come.
> 
> This chapter is not smutty, but included the tag for next chapter/future chapters. 
> 
> Let me know how you like it :)

Dean mindlessly gazed out the frosted-over window at the sun hanging low in a bleak, slate sky. With a despondent sigh, he chugged the frothy remains of his beer and forcefully slid it across the bar, leaving behind a cold, wet trail of condensation. It was going to be another long, lonely night.

"Refill?" The bartender inquired with dull, fatigued eyes, his red flannel shirt rolled up to the elbows.

Dean cleared his throat and replied gruffly, "Please."

While the bartender fumbled around with towels and pint glasses, Dean gazed up at the television mounted above the bar. Seven boxes in a row with pictures of snowflakes in them appeared on the screen. A full week of snow in the forecast? Dean grunted with disapproval. It had been a surprisingly rough winter, the snow piled high enough to cover the mailboxes, and a mentally exhausting one as well. The lack of sunlight alone was enough to drive anyone into a spell of depression, never mind the personal hell Dean was wading through every day. Sam was letting it get to him, and it hurt Dean to watch him laying around like the morose creature he had become. For a second, Dean felt guilty about leaving Sam alone in the motel room to sneak out to the bar, but he figured it was what the kid needed anyway. Cas hadn't been around for weeks either, it was like his entire support system had crumbled beneath him and he was left submerged in a pool of his bad feelings. Damn. With a painful pang of loneliness in his chest, he grasped ahold of the freshly-poured beer that had just been placed in front of him and downed half of it in one gulp. There wasn't enough liquor in the world to numb the constant feelings of hopelessness and guilt he constantly experienced.

Feeling his face continue to flush and losing the intense focus of his eyes, Dean finished the rest of his beer and fished the leather wallet out of his jacket pocket. He thumbed through it's contents, snatching out a 20 and a 5 and placed them on the counter, standing up with a firm knock on its surface. "Thanks man," he raised his voice to bid his farewell to the bartender and stumbled his way out of the bar. 

It was a freezing night, the mercury in the weathered thermostat hung outside the door hovering somewhere between -5 and 0 degrees fahrenheit. Dean desperately rubbed his hands together, hoping the friction might provide enough heat to prevent frostbite to his fingers. He ambled over to the Impala, toes stinging with the cold. She looked like shit. The salted roads were good for preventing slippage on the ice, but they were doing a number to her shiny black coat. During the summer, she would be sleek glinting with the reflection of the warm streetlights. Now, it was as if someone had rubbed chalk all over the Impala, everything around them was tinged gray with the residue. As Dean swung open the door with a creak, the nearest streetlight flickered and then went out. The leather on the seats was just as frigid as the air around him, he stuck his key in the ignition and turned her on with a growl and then a purr. Dean cranked up the heat all the way, and stared blankly out the frosty windshield, anxiously awaiting warmth. Daydreaming about happier days, he let his mind wander. 

Suddenly, a dark figure loomed beside him in the passenger seat. 

"Jesus, Cas." Dean blurted out, startled.

"Hello Dean." Cas stared out the windshield completely stoically. 

Dean started to say something but was quickly cut off.

"I know how you feel Dean."  
He doubted that.  
"It isn't easy for me either, you know."

Pursing his lips with slight indignation, Dean averted his gaze back out to the bleak parking lot. "Yeah, Cas?"

Castiel shifted his cold, expressionless blue eyes to rest on Dean. "I miss you too, I mean," he grunted, his focus temporarily faltering with a glint of sadness.

Dean didn't know how to react. After all, Cas had just up and left him in his time of need a few weeks earlier with no warning. 

"I-" his voice cracked, "I really, really missed you."

Quickly and drunkenly losing control of his emotions, Dean snapped. "Oh really, Cas? Is that why you've been nowhere to be found this whole time I've been suffering?" He forcefully slammed a hand against the steering wheel. "I needed you, man. You have no idea what it's been like for me lately. I'm losing my goddamn mind and Sam's just- he's so hopeless. It's just so.." Dean trailed off in hopes that Cas would not hear his voice cracking as an indicator that he was beginning to tear up.

Without warning, Castiel was scooting over to Dean and wrapping him in a warm, firm embrace. "I am here for you now, Dean."

A weak stream of tears burned a trail down Dean's cheeks. He resented how un-manly it was to let himself cry, nonetheless in front of another dude, but the more he tried to hold it in, the more steady the flow became and soon he was a sobbing sniffling mess on Cas' shoulder. Castiel raised a hand and began to deliver soothing strokes to the top of his head, the fabric on the shoulder of his trench coat becoming a warm damp pillow. 

After what seemed like forever, Dean regained his composure. He peeled himself away from Cas and offered a weak smile, not saying anything. They drove back to the motel in complete silence, the radio mumbling incoherently to dissipate any potential tension. 

* *

Dean awoke with a groan, the jarring chords of a familiar classic rock song jerking him from his sleep. He slapped at the alarm clock a few times til he managed to shut it up. Suddenly, a slight state of confusion overtook him. "How did I get back from the bar last night?" he thought to himself. Foggily glancing around the motel room, he saw that Sam's bed was empty and heard the distant groan of the water pipes. Sam was taking a shower, that was more than he'd managed to do in days. Maybe today would be better? A dull headache started to manifest itself. Maybe not.

"Good morning, Dean." 

"Holy shit," barked a startled Dean.

Sitting at the end of his bed cross-legged was Cas. His hair and trench coat were rumpled as though he had been sleeping, but Dean knew that not to be true.  
"I am sorry to have startled you." an awkward pause. "How do you feel, Dean?"

Simultaneously rubbing his eyes and shifting to hide the bulge of his morningwood through the sheets, Dean groaned again. "Honestly, like shit."

"You did seem quite inebriated when I was embracing you last night. Would you like some water?"

Dean blinked hard half in embarrassment remembering their encounter in the Impala, and half blocking out the light from the window, which was worsening his headache. "No, I'm good."

Castiel's eyes darted around the room. "Sam is taking a shower."

"Thanks for the report, Cas."

Face contorting with an uncomfortable expression and slight annoyance, Cas leaned forward and laid a playful (or at least that's what he seemed to be going for) smack on Dean's thigh. It didn't come off as a situation-appropriate gesture and Dean glared at Cas with incredulity.

"What?" Cas looked confused and scared. 

"Nothing. I'll take that water though."

Cas glided over to the kitchenette and poured Dean a glass of water. Dean suddenly softened, realizing that Cas would do almost anything for him. As he turned back, carefully carrying the glass of water, Dean shoved his sentiments deep inside himself. 

"Thanks Cas."

Sam swung open the bathroom door, steam billowing out around him and a towel wrapped tightly around his waist. "Morning, Dean." He bounced his eyes with a slight smirk between Dean and Cas. "Didn't realize you were bringing someone home with you last night."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Free Will drinking together.  
> Cas is struggling with something.  
> Other things are progressing..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you all for reading :)  
> The smut warning starts to take effect this chapter.
> 
> It's 2 am here, but I felt I needed to finish this before sleeping.

"Can you please come explain this to me, Dean?"

Sam and Dean sat on the sagging motel mattress doubled over and crying with laughter. 

On the other side of the bathroom door stood a confused Castiel, scrutinizing his work in the mirror.

Recovering from his laugh attack, Dean rose to his feet with the creak of a worn mattress coil. "I'm coming."

Once Dean's hangover had subsided that afternoon, he Cas and Sam had started drinking in celebration of Cas' sudden return to their lives. On the nightstand between their beds laid about 1/4 a fifth of cheap whiskey and a several empty beer bottles. At least temporarily, they had a distraction from the hard times they'd been facing lately. At some point, they'd arrived at the topic of Cas' tie, and convinced him after several shots to watch a tutorial video on Sam's laptop to try to fix the error of his ways. 

Cas looked defeated, reflected in the mirror above the sink. "I seem to have missed a step."

Seeing the tangled mess tied so tight around Castiel's neck made Dean immediately snort with laughter. 

"Please," Cas grumbled with embarassment. "Help me."

Dean stumbled a few steps closer, extending his arms to get a clumsy grasp on the necktie. His fumbling drunk hands began loosening the 'knot' that Cas had created. "What did you do to this thing?"

"I tried to tie it, Dean." 

"Well," Dean retorted, "You're gonna have to try a little bit harder next time."

Castiel stood motionless, making uncomfortable eye contact with himself in the mirror as Dean took another step forward and positioned himself directly behind him. Within seconds, Dean was expertly folding the tie into the perfect windsor knot. 

With his arms still wrapped around Cas' shoulders from behind, Dean paused to take a look at his work in the mirror. "See? Now you look great."

"Are you saying I did not look great before, Dean?"

Dean searched the reflection of Castiel's face for the hint of a smile to determine if this was an attempt at joking, but all he could focus on were those striking blue eyes staring right back at him. Something squirmed deep inside of Dean as he subconsciously nipped at his bottom lip. Suddenly, he wished he could wrap his arms tighter around Cas, pull him into a sturdy embrace and-  
Panicking at the thought, Dean broke their eye contact and released him with what could only be described as a nervous twitch. Averting his gaze as much as possible, Dean awkwardly raised a hand to scratch at the back of his own head and turned, with a drunken nod to himself, to return to Sam.

"Well," Sam took another swig of his beer, "How'd he do?"

Dean raised his eyebrows and replied, "He's gettin there."

* *

"Dean."

Startled, Dean's eyes sprung open. Through his blurry, just-awoken vision he could make out that it was 4:06 am. His focus darted around the darkness, trying to figure out if the voice had been in his dream or not.

"Are you awake, Dean?" The voice was hovering right above him. 

"Shit," Dean hissed into the darkness. "What the fuck are you doing in my bed, Cas?"

"I need your help." There was a hint of something mischievous in his voice.

Dean shifted to his other side, eliciting a small groan from the crappy old mattress beneath him. 

Illuminated by the dull green light of the digital display on the clock lay a smirking Castiel. Propping his head up with his elbow dug into the mattress, he raised an eyebrow at Dean. 

Scanning over his body in the dim light, Dean could see that Cas decided it was acceptable to crawl into bed with him at some point while he was sleeping. Dean narrowed his eyes, thinking about how strange it was to see a grown man, trench coat and all, nestled under the fleece motel blanket with him. "What the fuck are you doing, Cas?"

Castiel clutched at his tie, holding out the end of it like it was an offering for Dean.

"Can we please deal with this tomorrow? It's fucking 4 am." Dean was getting irritated. He needed his 4 hours of sleep, after all.

"Please Dean." Castiel growled so low that it sent a strange sensation up Dean's spine.

With a sigh, Dean grabbed ahold of the tie and began to loosen it for what seemed like the 3,000th time in the last 24 hours. When he accidentally yanked on the length of it, he could have sworn he heard a tiny whimper escape Cas. Deeming it as some weird middle-of-the-night imagination overload, Dean continued working on it until suddenly there was a strong warm hand resting on his cheek. His body fell perfectly still.

"Could you pull it harder for me, Dean?" Cas inquired in a voice almost deep enough to be inaudible. 

Casting a weary glare over his shoulder to make sure Sam was sound asleep, Dean wrapped the tie around his hands a few times to get a good grip and sharply jerked Cas closer to him. Cas groaned with delight. This was a secret (and very repressed) fantasy of Dean's ever since the first time he laid eyes on gruff, sexy Castiel and his dorky tie. An uncontrollable wave of arousal washed over Dean as he managed to find the perfect spot for his leg between Cas'. Discovering that Cas was also, apparently, very turned on was the last straw for Dean's self-restraint. He pulled at the tie again, hearing a small choking sound escape from Cas' throat. This sent him over the edge.

Dean let out a low moan as Cas slowly walked his fingers down his stomach, letting his hand rest on the hard bulge in his boxers. They made eye contact for a fleeting second in the soft glow of the alarm clock. Dean smirked and loved the mixture of apprehension and delight on Cas' face as he wound the tie around his fist even tighter this time, coaxing his angel 's head lower and lower. Cas planted soft warm kisses in a trail the whole way down Dean's body, finally coming to rest right above the elastic waistband. Shuddering with anticipation, Dean looked down at Cas as he cast the most sinful look up at him that he'd ever seen. His cock twitched at the sight.

Ready to have the most potentially rewarding sexual experience of his life, Dean bit at his bottom lip, taking a few deep breaths to keep himself from the mortifying possibility of finishing immediately.

With the rustling of sheets and a yawn, Sam, suddenly awake, rose from his bed and padded across the room to the bathroom. Dean froze with terror, Cas following suit. 

Their hearts beating wildly against their ribcages, Dean and Cas stayed frozen in their compromising position for what seemed like hours as they waited for Sam to saunter back to bed, lay down, and drift off to sleep again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the endlessly-frustrating tie incident between Dean and Cas, there is some unresolved tension that needs to be.. worked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the hiatus, I've been having a very mentally-trying few weeks!  
> I am back now, and intend to update more frequently!
> 
> Also, I understand that this chapter may be a little creepy, so if that's not something you're into.. sorry.

After a few weeks, things had begun to return to their 'normal' ways. Neither Dean, Sam, nor Cas had mentioned the tie incident again. Due to the complete lack of communication regarding their intimate encounter, there was an insurmountable about of tension between Dean and his angel that neither of them had the balls to break. 

Despite the facade, Dean had definitely not forgotten about it. In fact, the salacious image of Castiel leering up at him from beneath the sheets seemed to be permanently seared into his memory. He couldn't do much of anything without a jarring flashback to that night. Cas' slate eyes determinedly locked on his, the heat of Cas' ragged breaths on his bare thighs as they strained to keep completely silent to avoid any attention from Sam, the uncontrollable urges he felt as Cas implored him to grab ahold of that tie and..

"I'm going to take a shower," Dean haphazardly tossed the book he was reading onto the grimy motel bedspread with a thud. 

Sam nodded absentmindedly, completely submerged in whatever combination of news articles and supernatural literature he had discovered on his laptop.

Dean shot a wary glance at Castiel, who was confusedly fumbling with something in the kitchen area. He didn't know how far Cas' angel abilities extended in terms of picking up on human emotions and whatnot, but he could not help but feel somewhat embarrassed for how strong his arousal remained. Cas looked up, meeting Dean's eyes with a playful glance, and shot him a smirk. Fuck.

Slamming the door shut behind him, Dean immediately shucked his t-shirt, reached for the cold metal knob behind the curtain, and watched as a stream of water slowly made its way from frigid to steaming. As he slid out of his jeans, and then his boxers, he let himself succumb to the filthy images of Cas that had been incessantly plaguing him and gingerly stepped into the shower. From outside the bathroom door, Sam could be heard mumbling something, which Dean assumed was in response to Cas. 

Streams of pleasantly-warm water made their way down Dean's face, continuing down his shoulders and back, making the journey down his softening midsection. Squirting a small amount of the shitty free motel body wash into his palm, he began massaging circles into his skin. Dean closed his eyes and let his overstimulated mind run rampant. A fuzzy warmth surrounded his thoughts of Castiel peering up at him yet again with those penetrating blue eyes, never breaking his gaze as he slicked his tongue over those perfect pillowy lips and took all of Dean in his mouth with not even a hint of apprehension. Dean coasted a hand down the front of his body to desperately grasp at his throbbing cock. 

"Cas," Dean let out a broken whispered moan as he ran a shampoo-slicked hand up and down his length. He lolled his head back as the hot water cascaded over his shoulders and ran down his body. Imaginary Castiel sped up, slurping and sucking as his fist began to pump harder and harder. "Oh fuck, Cas," Dean repositioned himself with a foot up on the ledge of the shower and a hand on the slick tiled wall to steady himself. 

Now Dean was visualizing his bead-headed angel on all fours, casting a desperate pleading look over his shoulder at Dean, begging to be fucked. Dean's fumbling hand tirelessly pounded away struggling to keep up despite a negligible cramp in his wrist. He squeezed his eyes shut even harder as he pictured himself laying a firm steady hand on the small of Cas' back, sliding a lubricated finger into his angel's perfect tight hole. Castiel whimpered, tensing around Dean's finger. 

Dean moaned louder than intended at this thought, trying to cover it up with a feigned cough. His cock ached and throbbed for Cas, who shot that sinful look over his shoulder again, wordlessly begging for more. Lubing up his digits again, Dean inserted two fingers this time. With a low, gravelly moan from Cas, he took the queue to do what he had never even in his fantasies dared to do. Slicking his cock with lube, Dean imploringly placed his tip at Castiel's entrance, steadying himself with a cupped hand on his ass, and eased his way into the sinfully tight warmth. 

That was it, Dean was recklessly bucking into his hand, hips out of his control at this point. With a shuddered moan, and hissing Cas' name over and over again until he was wrecked, Dean released all of his warm wet pleasure. He kept his eyes closed as the cooling water from the shower head washed away the cum that had spurted all over him, glazing his hand and running down his trembling legs. When he felt steady enough, he opened his eyes with a deep contented breath, cupped some water in his now-wrinkled hands, and splashed it on the tiled wall to remove the excess evidence. After a hasty shampoo and cleansing of his body, Dean turned off the shower with a dull creak of the old shower knob.

Quickly casting the curtain aside to snatch a towel, Dean's breath caught in his throat and he lost his footing out of sheer terror and surprise. Grappling at the vinyl shower curtain for support, he managed to tear the whole curtain and rod down with him as he landed on the floor with a squeak and a thud. 

"Are you okay, in there?" Sam was at the door, concerned.

Dean cleared his throat, "Yeah, I'm fine."

Mortified, in a flushed wet heap on the floor, Dean stared in terror at Cas, who looked lost and confused like a guilty puppy perched precariously on the edge of the grimy white counter where the sink was positioned beneath a foggy mirror. 

His body sore and somewhat in shock, Dean rose to his feet and quickly wrapped a fuzzy white towel around his waist. 

Not wanting Sam to know what had happened, and not fully understanding how to react to the situation, Dean silently, yet angrily mouthed, "WHAT THE FUCK?"

Castiel bit his bottom lip, noting that Dean didn't look completely opposed to his presence. He shot an inquisitive look at Dean, reaching down to the fly of his pants and slowly tugging down at the zipper.


End file.
